Page 83 of Bad Habits

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3 Months Ago

Rita

She walks around like she is superior. I’ve had it. Can’t take it anymore. Her smartass remarks need to be tamed. Before she leaves, she will understand how bad it could’ve been the whole time she was here. I was kind – until now.

After everyone went to bed, I went to her room. She was secluded to her room after school every day so that made it easy to know where she was. I had a lock on the outside of the door. Unlocking it, I slipped inside, shutting it.

She sat up, looking at me quizzically. Knowing something bad was going to happen, she scooted to the edge of her bed, I thought she was going to stand. Instead, she bent down and grabbed a ratty old shoebox from underneath.

“What do you want?”

“This is my house and I can go where I want.” Little bitch was going to learn a lesson. Slapping the paddle on my legs, I knew I had her attention.

“You aren’t touching me with that.” Julia sneered.

“Oh, no?” Funny she thinks she can tell me what to do. Walking closer to her, she rustled the lid off of the box.

“See this?” She looked at me with dead eyes, “just remember, it could be you.”

Taking a double take in the box, I realized it was carcasses of animals. Birds, squirrels, dogs maybe? What the fuck was wrong with her? Looking up slowly at her, I saw the knife she was clutching.

“Give me a reason Rita.” The girl spit out.

Fucking crazy bitch. She thought she had me, I would do her one better. “You may be able to protect yourself, but for every night you don’t allow me to punish you before you leave, Thomas and Lucy will receive your paddling.” Smiling I turned around to walk out.

“They will arrest you if you bruise them.”

“Ah, but they don’t go to school yet, so who will know? It’s not like any of the teachers, besides that young cunt, listen to you, and even she is getting tired of your mouth.” Laughing, I walked out seeing the doubt on her face.

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Julia

She wouldn’t dare, would she? And what if she was right? What if Mrs. Otis was tired of hearing me complain?

I don’t think she will do anything to the babies. She can’t be that evil.

Putting the lid back on the shoe box, it occurred to me, she was the only person I had ever shown it to. I need to hide it so she can’t show anyone else. I always knew there was something different about me, I just needed to see what was inside of living creatures. The rush I got by opening them up, and then holding their beating heart in my hand until it beat its very last time, was indescribable. I never shared that with anyone.

Climbing off the bed, I went to the closet and found a loose vent. I put the box in and pushed it back, as far as it could go but not so far so I could still reach it. That’s when I heard it. The sound of Thomas screaming. The bitch did it. She took her anger out on the little ones.

I banged on my door. It opened up, she hadn’t locked it. Walking out to the room of the younger ones, she looked up at me maliciously, took the toddler off her lap, “It is Julia’s fault you have to get a whipping.”

The big tear drops were more than I could handle. Looking at her, I saw the vindication in her eyes.

She knew she had won this battle. She walked me back to my room, made me drop my pajama pants and underwear, bend over the bed, and paddled me. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of crying. It stung on my bare skin, but I wasn’t giving her anything.

It only lasted for two weeks, she would paddle me ten times on my bare butt. It was beyond purple, my whole bottom was black. I could barely sit down. I never cried in front of her, or screamed in pain.

Eventually, she got bored and forgot about it. I never did. On the day I left, I put a heaping spoon of rat poison in her coffee creamer. She would not allow anyone else to use it. If we drank coffee, we drank it black. She deserved to have her insides eaten up by the acid, destroyed by her selfish ways.

Chapter 7

Sister Purity

Sundays weremy favorite day of all in the Convent. We would of course go to worship and hear Father Clarence’s sermon, then we each had our own regimen of what we needed to do.